


The Story of Us

by noveltyromance



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Awkward Sherlock, Awkward courtships, Camgirl Molly, F/M, Gen, Jelly sherlock, Not all chapters are smutty, Rom-com
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2018-12-03 13:43:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11533452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noveltyromance/pseuds/noveltyromance
Summary: A collection of prompts and stories about Sherlolly that I have on tumblr.  Accepting prompts now.





	1. Stay

Long time lurker and new to the sherlolly fandom. I’m feeling creative and I’m attempting to complete all of the 100 prompts from this [list](http://simplyshelbs16xoxo.tumblr.com/post/162099824346/writing-prompts). Submission one:  

**“Do you want me to leave?”**

It was unprecedented. It’s usually never Molly’s decision. She never mattered enough to decide. She never counted. And yet, today, she was proven wrong.

Her mind was left reeling, unable to comprehend the question. Sherlock stared at her pointedly. His keen silence demanded a response from his inquiry albeit simultaneously offering leeway.

Such a substantial question. In her head, it was almost a request. But years spent with Sherlock proved that she should not read between the lines for something that’s not there.

Still, he looked at her with imploring eyes and posture rigid from apprehension.

“If you leave…” she trailed off, unsure of what to say.

His brows furrowed. He straightened his body and turned his head away from hers. “I’ll never bother you again. At least, not like this.”

Tense silence hung between them for a moment before she hesitantly asked, “Do you want to leave?”

“No. I want… I wish to stay.”

She crossed the distance between them. Molly touched Sherlock’s cheek, anxiety clear in the man’s handsome features. He almost flinched, bless him. Unshed tears threatened to fall.

“If you do, you can’t ever leave. You leaving… it might break me. I won’t survive.”

“Oh Molly,” he sighed. “I’m prepared to stay forever. I’m not made for this. It’s new and frustrating. I’m out of my depth. I will hurt you but I’m a selfish man. I need you. I can’t… I won’t let you go. Please, don’t ask me to leave.”

She gave him a watery smile that he returned tenderly.

“Stay.”


	2. I Swear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I swear it won't happen again."

**“I swear it won’t happen again.”**

Molly snorted out loud in response. Sherlock glared at her before turning back to his phone with a meek, “Yes Mummy.” 

It took everything Molly had not to cackle at the sight before her. The great Sherlock Holmes felled by his outraged mother. John would appreciate a video of this. But Sherlock would know, as he always does, and she would be in hot water. She mentally reminded herself to discreetly acquire the Holmes matron’s number, just in case.

“Yes, yes Mummy. In the future, if we ever have the urge to elope again, I will make sure to have your presence secured for the ceremony. I am amply contrite with my dastardly actions however, you are calling on my wedding night and I would like to get back to it. Yes, Mummy, I will bring her over as soon as we can manage. Goodbye,” Sherlock hastily ended the call lest his mother yells again. He turned to his wife with a glower. 

“Your mocking was unappreciated.”

She hummed in response while slowly shedding off her night gown. It revealed her soft creamy skin and nothing else. 

“Yes, I was certainly out of line. Maybe you should punish me…”

His eyes roamed her body. Exquisite, wanton and so very giving. His Molly is perfection. He gave her a wolfish grin before pulling her into his arms. 

Molly’s shadow wouldn’t darken her new in-laws’ home for another week and a half. 

————-

From this [prompt list](http://simplyshelbs16xoxo.tumblr.com/post/162099824346/writing-prompts)


	3. Domestic Bliss

Honestly, I didn’t realize that I was looking at the wrong prompt list. So here’s a freebie. Unbeta’d and all me. 

**“Have you seen my contacts?”**

Molly rolled her eyes fondly. She never believed that she’d be living a day like this. Domestic bliss with the great Sherlock Holmes, the man who was once unattainable.

She heard a loud hiss from her usually indifferent cat and a responding bellow from her husband. There was an unmistakable sound of a book or two being thrown. She’s going to have to talk to him about orderliness in the household again. Or abusing her tabby. 

On a second thought, it might not be fully domestic bliss. But it is something domestic alright. Of which is a miracle in itself with Sherlock. She considers herself lucky enough.

“Have you tried the broom closet?” she yelled out. Shuffling footsteps followed. A mop of curly hair peeked through their bedroom door. 

“Why would it be in the broom closet?” A frown marred his face. He’s usually great at deducing anything really. However, he tends to delete items that are deemed of little importance in lieu of facts. This leads to several bouts of scatterbrained decisions. Minimal really.

Like leaving his grooming items in the next available safe space to make room for a morbid experiment in their only bathroom. The experiment, which she gave no prior consent, yielded ample blood spatters and her ire. 

“Brain, bath and blood,” she responded with a glare. 

At least he had the common sense to look sheepish. “Right.” 

He stopped for a second, buffering perhaps. “You get off at three?”

“Yes, I was planning to drop by at the grocer.” 

“No, I will have that taken care of. I’m picking you up. Dress…smartly,” Sherlock said the last bit carefully. Months of being married to Molly trained him with being more vigilant of his words. 

“Why? Is John not free for a case?”

“No, it’s… today is rather important, don’t you think?”

“Today?”

“Yes. I was told that social convention dictates that a couple should celebrate the first day of their coupling.” 

“Yes but that’s not until three months from now.” 

“No, we started dating earlier. A year ago from today, we spent a rather memorable night together.”

“I thought it was a one-night stand…”Molly could only stare at Sherlock in befuddlement.

“A one-night stand? We had plenty of dates after!”

“You bringing me tepid coffee from the canteen upstairs are not considered dates!” 

“There’s just no pleasing you, is there?” 

The urge to wring his neck is overwhelming. But even with his infuriatingly smug grin, she couldn’t help being pleased with the knowledge that he pursued her much earlier than expected. 

“I’ll dress smartly,” she conceded.  

Sherlock nodded. He cleared his throat, glanced at his watch but stood awkwardly by the door. Molly shook her head in fond exasperation. She crossed the room and gave him a goodbye kiss, which he enthusiastically responded before turning away. 

He loathes to admit it but remarkably, goodbye kisses have become a staple to their relationship among other things. He would always make sure that he never initiated it. Her beautiful husband has a multitude of mannerisms that are mind-boggling. Still, she won’t have him any other way. She has no concerns with his devotion to her. The fact that he remembered their apparent anniversary and his willingness to celebrate it proved his utmost commitment to her. 

All things considered, perhaps, it is domestic bliss after all. 


	4. The Misadventure of Molly the Magnanimous

They started off so well. John begged off for a weekend with his pregnant wife. Some summer shagging to be precise (Sherlock’s words verbatim) although Molly would not be crude to point it as such. With a delectable case that is apparently an 8 by Sherlock’s estimation, she was thrusted into the position that Hamish the Horny Hellion (again, Sherlock’s words verbatim) usually held. It should go without saying that she volunteered for the position. 

From her previous experience with Sherlock’s shenanigans, she honestly believed that she was ready for anything. A can of mace for protection, a flashlight AND a black light, and comfy trainers on her feet for easy sprinting. Hell, she even started a regimen of sufficient hydration just for emergencies like this. She was ready to be Sherlock’s right hand man yet again. But nothing could have prepared her for everything that was about to happen. 

A waylaid Catholic priest needed assistance with missing Holy Oil from the sacristy. A very curious case, even to Molly, since there’s really no need to take said oil when there were golden chalices kept right next to it. And the habitually pilfered jar of oil would go missing on certain days. 

After inspecting the sacristy and interviewing key persons, their search led them to a monastery in the outskirts of town. When it became apparent that there was something fishy with the oil itself, the clues led them to an underground criminal syndicate that infiltrated a local Catholic church. They manufacture liquid heroin and kept them from the only place the police would never search. The movement of goods proved to be the criminal syndicate’s downfall. They used the moon phases as a way to determine whether or not the heroin is present in the sacristy, something that Sherlock noted once he glanced upon a calendar. 

All of this culminated into being captured by the thugs, pending imminent death. At least she’ll have a few moments to pray, seeing that she’s about to be murdered in a church. She briefly wondered if it means an instant accessibility to heaven. But her musings were interrupted by Sherlock who freed himself from the tight rope that bound them. He discreetly turned her loose and contacted Lestrade for help. Now all they needed was to get away from six armed men. 

The bumbling idiots left them all alone in stock room, blissfully unaware that the two are almost free. They did leave Molly and Sherlock in a windowless room with a singular exit, which was the problem. After a few moments of tense contemplation on how to survive, Sherlock clenched his jaw in determination. He turned to his loyal pathologist and said, **“Before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you.”**

He swooped down and kissed her passionately, showing her the depth of his devotion. As far as kisses go, this is _the_ best snog of her entire life. She pulled at the lapels of his Belstaff and held on as his tongue entered her mouth. She was about to straddle him when he reluctantly let her go and bolted out the door with a shout. 

The daft man was to be the distraction so she can run freely to safety. And as he predicted, she was able to run away. Fighting through tears, she ran to the main road only to be met by the cavalry. Anxious from fear of Sherlock’s safety, she sobbed as she waited for the criminals to be apprehended. When Sherlock came out alive (sporting a split lip and a bruise or two), she immediately jumped into his arms and murmured words of love. He dried her tears, assured her that he was perfectly fine and gave her a tender kiss. An amused Lestrade took a picture and instantly texted “Hamish the Horny Hellion” about the new development. 

All the way home, Molly and Sherlock’s hands were intertwined.  

=================

One more because I’m unstoppable today.  [Prompt list](http://simplyshelbs16xoxo.tumblr.com/post/162099824346/writing-prompts)


	5. An Interlude in the Morgue

An Interlude in the Morgue

 **“You don’t have to stay,”** Molly murmured. 

Sherlock nodded in assent. “You’re right. I don’t.” 

She couldn’t help but feel put out by his harsh words. However, he made no motion to leave the premises. Instead, he tucked his hands behind his back and seemed determined to enjoy the companionable silence. She wanted to ask a number of questions. But she was wary of scaring him away. He does tend to take flight at uncomfortable events. 

“Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”

He stared at her, assessing her mood. He gave a noncommittal shrug. 

His nonchalance, while comforting, is a little vexing. _What does it mean?_ She lifted the cup of tea he procured for her from the canteen upstairs. The worst part about being in a morgue is travelling five floors up for a halfway decent cup of tea. She took a sip at the tepid cuppa. 

“Is there…can I help you with something?”

“No,” he assured her while glancing at his fob watch. Then a peculiar thing happened. He gave her a cheeky smile.

It’s disconcerting to see it directed at her. It’s something from his arsenal that he uses to disarm people on a case. While it may be perfectly innocent, she can’t help but be suspicious.

“Is this some sort of experiment?” she asked with a frown. 

His impassive face colored slightly. “No.”

“Then what is going on Sherlock? Your slides are already being tested as we speak. Results won’t be in until tomorrow morning, which I will make sure you get immediately. There’s no body to inspect. There’s nothing for you here. So what are you doing?” 

He tensed at the exasperation in her voice. He seemed to deliberate what he was going to say. In a low voice, he choked out, **“I’m flirting with you.”**

Molly was stunned to silence. She gaped at him with an open mouth while the embarrassed man looked about ready to bolt away. 

“You’re flirting with me by standing in a corner at the local morgue in silence.” 

“And I brought you a drink.” 

“The tea I begged you to get because I was performing a brain dissection.” 

“Yes.”

“Is this a joke?”

He made a sound of frustration. Molly was too confused to even attempt comforting him. “It has come to my attention-”

“Watson.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “That I could get insensitive with my words and that I am inept at expressing genuine sentiment therefore it would be best if I ‘shut my trap’ as it were.” 

“Ah, the prettier Watson then. But it doesn’t explain why you’re trying to flirt with me.” 

Sherlock scoffed. “Doctor Hooper, you and I both know that you possess a great mind capable of inference. Don’t be obtuse.”

“And you still haven’t answered the question,” she pressed on. 

“It would seem that in all our interactions together, I seem to have…ahem…grown fond of you.”

“Fond?” she repeated the word acerbically. 

“Perhaps, a better term would be more apt to describe my…feelings.”

“And that is?”

He took a deep breath and looked at her straight in the eyes. **“I adore you.”**

Molly felt a rush of elation and giddiness. 

“There are you happy now?”

She nodded slowly, a shy smile tugging her lips. “Yes.”

A tinge of pink touched his cheeks. He looked anywhere else but her. “That’s good to know.”

“Yes, very good indeed.” 

“Dinner…tonight?”

“I am amenable to that,” she responded. 

“Great.”

“Good.” 

A second passed. Then the two simultaneously started for each other and locked together for a passionate kiss. 

 ============

Maybe this is a little out of character for Sherlock but I am fond of the socially awkward Sherlock Holmes. He’s a fun character to write. From this [prompt list ](http://simplyshelbs16xoxo.tumblr.com/post/162099824346/writing-prompts)  


	6. Addiction

Molly ran. Her heart hammering in her chest, her pulse took on an alarmingly fast cadence. Her mouth felt dry and her lungs seemed incapable of operating properly. Her feet hurt as her leg muscles strained from sheer exhaustion. Yet she never stopped.

His hand pulled her to safety. His spindly fingers curled against hers tight. His curly hair bobbed with the wind. His face alight with excitement in the face of danger. His eyes gleamed and the radiance of his apparent brilliance evident on his person. And, most unfortunately for her, he has never looked more endearing. 

She knew that he would always be her downfall. And she would always come back for more.

Sherlock Holmes is her addiction. 

And she would never be able to shake him off. Not that she would ever want to do so. 


	7. Smile

The great Sherlock Holmes failed to notice it at first.

He is one to notice minuscule mannerisms. He is rather well-known for it. However, the current development pulled the proverbial rug under him. 

It seemed insignificant at first. Even John was unable to discern the change and he, admittedly, had a better emotional quotient than Sherlock. Honestly, who would notice the difference?

It wasn’t until the fourth time he saw her did he finally ascertain the truth, and in his opinion, his impeding doom. 

It started out as a fine Wednesday morning. Lestrade needed help with an easy level four case; that in itself was a blatant sign. John accompanied him to Barts. He solved the case in a record of three minutes. After preening at Lestrade and John’s amazed response to his brilliance, he turned to the ever dependable Dr. Molly Hooper for his deserved adulation as he had always done before. 

She had on a proud smile. It lit up her face and the radiance almost blinded him. Had she always looked at him this way? As if he moved the world and back. Suddenly, he felt undeserving. But he would be lying if he denied being compelled to produce that smile from her again. 

He should be disgusted with himself. Showing off like an overly enthusiastic dog and Molly’s endearing smiles as his tasty treat. 

After his epiphany, he is constantly around her. He’s continuously showing off. He was there to make her happy after a stressful day, a painful period of female anatomical occurrence, or just generally showering her with his attention. Anytime that her face is turned into a frown or her eyes turned dewy, he would scramble to ‘fix’ the situation. It was taxing for him and his emotional range. But seeing her dazzling smile just for him was worth it. Now, he’s ready to move the world and back just for her.

Eventually, she caught on. 

Upon confrontation, her smiles now hold a very different meaning. 

Evidently, his smiles held the same truth too.


	8. The One Who Got Away pt 1

It was an unusual day, to say the least. The gang were all present at the morgue. Lestrade, towing both Sherlock and John to a boggling case that inevitably ended in Molly’s domain. Mary’s presence was an oddity. Although, it could be explained by a missed lunch date with Molly due to the fresh slab of decomposing body on her work space.

So yeah…it was a small gaggle of friends in a most unusual spot. 

And then Mike Stamford came in, tugging a man with him. He was a disarmingly handsome man, almost lanky if not for the defined upper body muscles rippling through his shirt. Interestingly, he had a mop of short curly brown hair and eyes as green as leaves of spring. He was an exemplary model of a man. A man Molly never thought she’d see again. 

 “Bill,” she murmured in wonderment. Mary’s eyes gleamed in mischief. 

“Molls!” Bill exclaimed with a start. He wasted no time enveloping her in a warm hug. Of course, she turned beet-red because that’s what she does.   


“You know Dr. William Gray?” Mike asked the obvious.  


Bill laughed, “Yeah, we went to uni together.”

Molly’s cheeks were still coloured a rosy-pink hue as she nodded in assent. 

“Dr. Gray will be our interim head surgeon upstairs. I’m touring him around Barts,” Mike explained. He then introduced the others to the new surgeon.

“It’s been forever Molls! You disappeared on me,” Bill directed his attention back to Molly.   


And of course, in a true Hooper fashion, she stammered through her excuse. Nevertheless, the man seemed genuinely happy to see her.

“We should get together sometime. Tomorrow lunch?”  


Sherlock raised an eye while the other men looked on in keen interest. 

Molly immediately and awkwardly answered, “Uh, yeah! It’s a date. I mean- it’s not…I did mean, it’s just a saying-I’m not-”

She was in the middle of her stammering mess when Bill gently touched her shoulder and said, “It’s a date.” He flashed her a rugged grin, waved his goodbye and sauntered out with an amused Mike. 

“Oh my god!” Mary squealed in delight.   


“What just happened?” Molly asked in a daze.  


“I’ll tell you what happened. William ‘the-one-who-got-away’ Gray just asked you out on a date!”  


“I-he…what?” Molly asked again.  


Mary giggled. She turned to the remaining men in the room. “You already took up too much of her time. I’m whisking her away for lunch. Clean up here.”

With that, she pulled Molly outside of the morgue. 

Lestrade chuckled. “That was adorable.”

“She reminded me of that time she had a huge thing for you, Sherlock,” John added with a smirk.  


Sherlock remained impassive. Although, a slight tilt of his mouth downwards proved his distaste. 

“Yeah, she was an awkward thing. Endearingly awkward,” Lestrade cajoled further.  


“But this solves the mystery, I think.”  


“Mystery of what?” Sherlock bit out.  


“Why she was fond of you!” John exclaimed. “Don’t deny it. You and Meat Dagger look like Bill. Tall, dark and handsome. I always thought she liked Tom because she reminded her of you but it just turned out that she had a type.”

“Well, with him in the picture, she won’t bother with you anymore,” Lestrade teased Sherlock.   


Sherlock retorted back about the inspector’s similarly horrid relations with his ex-wife. He tried to ignore the heavy tug in his chest or the simmering annoyance he felt as soon as Bill embraced Molly.

But he just can’t deny the niggling feeling that he’s about to lose his pathologist.


	9. Amelia pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camgirl Molly. There will be sex.

Molly was _voluntold_  yet again by the great Sherlock Holmes to be his partner against crime. Thus, she was stuck taking notes as the latter listened to his client’s demands. It was something she enjoyed on occasion. Spending the day with Sherlock makes her happy though he tends to be a smidge overbearing. However, her adoration for the man never waned even as he shredded the last of her patience. 

She went back to doodling on her notepad. Sherlock sat imperiously on his chair and bristled with boredom. Molly can already tell that he solved the problem a few minutes ago. However, both individuals could not get a word edgewise with the blubbering man in their midst. Only when the client paused for a breath of air did Sherlock intervened. 

Naturally, the client was amazed at Sherlock’s expeditious wit. And of course, Sherlock’s already inflated ego ballooned in size with his praise. She did nothing but roll her eyes as discreetly as she can.

As she turned away, wayward strands of her hair obscured her face. She gently tucked her hair behind her ear when the man started with an exclamation.

“I knew I recognized you! You’re Amelia! The girl in the videos.”   


Molly felt her insides run cold. She instantly laughed awkwardly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“But you really look like her. And I would know. I used to-well, never mind,” the man said as his cheeks colored. He did give her a leer as he took in Molly’s brightly colored jumper and conventional jeans. The man shook his head, profusely apologized and left in a haste.  


Sherlock gazed at her intensely. “Amelia?”

Molly shrugged, “I have no idea.”

He narrowed his eyes a bit and grunted for the next client.

She took a small breath of relief. Unbeknownst to her, Sherlock’s suspicion and curiosity will bring her darkest secret to light.

* * *

It was a few days later after he last enlisted Molly as John’s replacement for the day. He meticulously arranged more time with his pathologist than normal. His burgeoning sentiment for her no longer something he can push aside. However, he’s still deliberating on how to broach the subject with her. While he did so, he was waylaid by an exciting level nine case that took his mind off her and the small odd interaction with Molly and a client. Molly’s reaction to the man’s inquiry proved that she is said Amelia. But it did not give any explanation about her abrupt denial. Upon clearing his mind palace of unnecessary clutter, he stumbled upon the mystery of  **Amelia.** It took him several days of digging in the internet before he even got a lead. 

Even more confounding, all leads that he picked up eventually led him in circles. As he delved deeper and deeper into the web, he followed minuscule breadcrumbs of the woman. Finally, after spending two days in the dark net, he found a dedicated server for the most celebrated underground cam videos from the early 90′s. 

There was only one surviving video from the said woman. Apparently, there was a purge from the original server after several videos of underage females circulated. All that was left of **Amelia’s** legacy was a ten minute long video. 

As soon as he clicked on the video, he was shocked to see a younger Molly clad in a revealing nightie. She stared at the camera with her big, brown eyes whilst wearing a sensuous grin. There was something incredibly seductive about her expression. A mischievous seductress, if you will. She bit the bottom half of her lip and diverted her vision toward the left hand side of the screen. Molly giggled as she read a comment about her nightie out loud. 

“You want me to take it off?” She giggled again. “It’s going to cost you.”

There was a ringing sound that signaled a form of payment.   


Molly’s grin grew as she studiously stood up and removed the article of clothing. It revealed her perky breasts that swayed with her movement. Her rosy nipples crowning the mounds that Sherlock once ridiculed. Boy, was he wrong. He unconsciously licked his lips. 

“Do you like what you see?” 

Sherlock nodded slowly. 

Molly ran her hand across her right breast and gave her nipple a gentle squeeze. She gave a low breathy moan. 

Beads of perspiration coated Sherlock’s forehead.

Molly grasped her other nipple and gave it a much harder squeeze. She made a show of squirming her hips. Another round of ringing was heard. 

“Mmmm, baby… you’re making me wet. Would you like to see?”  


Sherlock could not help but utter a resounding, “Yes!”

A stretch of ringing echoed before Molly stood up. She turned around and jutted her bum. And what a beautiful bum it was. Plump with a tiny scrap of cotton obscuring her nether regions. She wiggled her butt and Sherlock was left following the movement. There was a significant tightness in his pants that he refused to acknowledge. 

With deliberate slowness, Molly shed off her cotton panties. Her bare cunt left open for the paying perverts to see. Ironically, as he would think of this much later, he’s one of said perverts. But all that didn’t matter to him at the moment. Molly turned around and sat down on the bed, legs askew.  

“Do you see how wet you make me, baby?” she purred. A bout of ringing invaded the silence.   


“More?” she teased. She held up two fingers and licked it. It was maddeningly sexual the way she licked her fingers. Then, she proceeded to touch herself. Her hips twitched every time the fingers touched her clit. She moaned out loud, eyes closed and very much in the throes of sexual pleasure.   


If ever there was an image that will be seared in Sherlock’s mind, he willed it to be this. 

Another round of ringing interrupted her. Molly wore another saucy grin and pulled a dildo from her dresser. She gave it a good cleaning with wipes conveniently stored next to it. 

“I want more. So much teasing and I’m already so close.” Like her with her fingers, her mouth gave the same attention to the dildo. She made a show of sucking the shaft and licking the head of the toy.   


it was now Sherlock’s turn to groan. He can just imagine his own shaft in lieu of the toy.

When she deemed it appropriately lubricated the dildo, she maneuvered herself so that the camera captured the toy and her wet heat. She waited for a beat. 

“Would you like to see me get off?”  


A vigorous round of ringing can be heard. If Sherlock was being honest with himself, he would not hesitate paying all the money he had just to see Molly and her sex toy for even a measly minute. 

“Oh goddd…fuck!” Molly bellowed as the toy entered her sex. She slowly moved the dildo up and down, setting a comfortable pace whilst making sure it was hitting her g-spot. She interchanged moaning with a litany of curses as she chased her climax. Her licked her other hand and rubbed her clit. 

She was a picture of wild, wanton sex. And it drove him into lust-addled frenzy.  


Sherlock released his hardened cock from the restriction of his pants. He caressed himself, mimicking the movement of her toy. Her loud groans egged him on. He was on the edge already. And judging by the curl of her toes, so was she. 

She increased her pace and jammed the toy harder into her sex. Her legs started shaking and her eyes curled upwards. She came with a shout, her juices squirting from her sex. He followed almost instantly. He came with a shudder and a loud groan. 

Molly, in the middle of climax, is by far, the most erotic thing Sherlock had ever envisioned. 

She pulled out the toy from herself and languidly stood up. Her legs were still shaky but she moved closer to the computer. She gave the viewers a bright smile, reminiscent of the ones she reserve for Sherlock.

“This is **Amelia** signing off. See you next time.” She let out a cute wink and the video ended.   


Sherlock is now at a loss. In a day, he found out that the girl he may or may not (mostly leaning toward the former) be in love with harbored a secret past and he now has a newly-discovered fetish. One thing is for certain though.

He will make sure that Molly becomes his. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys… this is my first time writing smut. Let me know okay. Too much? Needs more? Please please, let me know.


	10. Coffee

Molly paced the familiar hallway of 221 Baker St. in an attempt to dispel her anxiety. She had been a nervous wreck throughout the annual Christmas get-together at Sherlock’s. She attempted to smooth the nonexistent crimps in her skirt. It should be simple. She just needs to put herself out there. Asking someone out for a cup of coffee is not exactly rocket science. 

But asking out someone like Sherlock Holmes may be more complicated than rocket science. She can still remember the sting of her previous attempt and his abrupt dismissal. Then there was that one horrible Christmas that she refused to even remember. To say that she had a complicated relationship with the man is not all truthful. The complication has always been only on her end. 

She had to resort to replacing him with someone else. Like Jim from IT who ended up being a criminal mastermind. Let’s not forget the incomparable Meat Dagger Tom who was excruciatingly simple. All of Molly’s attempts to move on proved to be a failure. Therefore, she determined that she needed to ask him out one last time before she completely overhaul her life free of the man she adored for years. If he declines, then she’ll let go. Even if it hurts, she’ll have to be an adult about it. She’ll have to. A new year means a new life, right? 

She continued her nervous to and fro. Just a burst of courage. That’s all she needed, really. 

A polite cough stopped her in her tracks. She swiveled and almost smacked into the man in question. 

**“How long have you been standing there?”**   


“Long enough,” he said with a shrug. “Not enjoying the party?”  


“I am. I just wanted some fresh air.”  


“Fresh air… in the hallway?”  


“Yes,” she bit out defensively. “What are you even doing here, Sherlock? Hiding?”  


He clasped his hand behind his back in an act of nonchalance. “Perhaps, I am imbibing on fresh air too.” 

She grinned. He can be charming if he really wants to (emphasis on the if). “John nagging again, huh?”

“He’s a nutter. Now he has Mary nagging on me too.”   


“They just care for you.”  


He scoffed but she can read the underlying mirth in his action. His lips, usually drawn in a thin line, quirked with a hint of smile. 

A round of raucous laughter rang from the room. Suddenly, she felt nervous again. 

“Sherlock-”

“I’ve been sober.”

Her eyes misted and she looked at anywhere but him. She blinked the tears away. “I’m glad.”

He sighed, unease evident from his stiff body. “I’ve… before, it was for a case. But I stopped. For the people I…cherish. It’s my Christmas gift.”

She stepped forward and enveloped him in a tight hug. “It’s the best news I heard in a long time.”

“Yes, well it will hopefully lessen the nagging I will receive from here on out.”

She snorted. “Good luck with that.”   


A loud shriek, a couple of guffaws and a shout for Molly’s name came from the other room. She inwardly sighed at the ruined opportunity. She started away from Sherlock when she felt his hand grasping her elbow.

He wore the most curious expression that she could not decipher.  **“Are you really going to leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?”**

Of course, he would deduce it. How infuriating and oddly, convenient. She steeled herself. 

She gave him a glare of disapproval before asking, “I was going to ask you if you wanted coffee. With me. On a date.”

He broke out a smug grin. “Don’t you think we’re past that?”

“We are?”  


“Not many people would keep sobriety after years of drug abuse just to gift it for Christmas.”  


“That was for me?”  


“Did you think I’d do all that just for Lestrade?”  


“But- but you never…”  


“I couldn’t. I needed to be better. You needed someone better.”  


“Oh Sherlock,” she murmured as tears fell freely. “I would have taken you any way I can have you.”   


“That would be a huge disservice to you. You deserve all the good in the world, Molly Hooper. Yet, you throw it all away for a man like me. How can I deserve someone like you?”   


“Because I chose you,” she replied with a watery smile. 

He gathered her into his arms and gave her a searing kiss, which she returned enthusiastically. 

Sherlock would take out Molly for coffee the next day. Early next morning, in fact. And if their friends noticed that Molly was wearing clothes from the other day, they would hide a satisfied smile and gossip with each other.

Years later, he would end up proposing to her over a cup of coffee. But that’s another story for another day. 

* * *

[Prompt list](http://simplyshelbs16xoxo.tumblr.com/post/162099824346/writing-prompts) (# 39, 24). I didn’t think this would take this much length. 


	11. Something Stupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly and accidental word vomit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My submission for prompt (http://simplyshelbs16xoxo.tumblr.com/post/162099824346/writing-prompts) 36. Inspired by a cover (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4imfDL6JjDU&list=PLipxOrvqCQzYTK4ClYGG7g1wOSZpj1COd&index=8) of the song. I would listen while I read. I think it sets the mood. I think I was a little cheeky with the song but oh well. Thank you for the support!

“I love you.”

If there’s anything more embarrassing than of an unintended declaration of love, it would be the excruciating silence that came afterwards. Molly was stuck between verifying if he heard it properly, if he understood the message or if she should deny it-all culminating with a good cry subsequently. But, given that the receiver of the message is Sherlock Holmes, it is clear that it was the last option. In one fleeting moment- one she regretted thinking immediately- she wished that he was high out of his mind so he forgets her verbal vomit.

Her cheeks were covered with angry red splotches. She can’t even blush properly, like a respectable English woman. How in the world did she end up in this situation?

It all started with her spending an unusual amount of time with Sherlock. Apparently, good old London had a bout of peace since Lestrade had little to no cases for the consulting detective. John was too busy with his new daughter. And Mycroft didn’t want to even see Sherlock’s shadow after an apparent altercation - something about a family recipe that Sherlock destroyed to irk his older brother. He won’t specify but the smug grin he sports every time he remembers the incident tells her that Sherlock was being a git. Therefore, Sherlock spent an inordinate amount of time at the lab and consequently, with her.

She really came out of her shell after the unfortunate encounter with her palms and Sherlock’s cheeks. He gave her the respect that she commanded after showing him that she will simply put up with his shit no longer. He listened to her opinions and sometimes even asked for it. He no longer assumed that she’d get him coffee nor demand it from her. He would loiter around the lab, tinkering with his experiments and politely requesting for spare body parts. She, in turn, would always find it difficult to say no. Honestly, who can say no to that face? They would spend a lot of time - learning more of each other and enjoying each other’s company. She supposes, if one squints really hard, they might see a semblance of a relationship. 

Maybe that’s why she couldn’t help herself. If she were interested then, she was way beyond that now. While he’s socially inept – perhaps it’s intentional – he’s brilliant, charming and so bloody noble. He’d lay down his life for the people he loves, even though he loathes he terminology. Molly simply loves his little quirks and that mad dash of smug cleverness.

He was in the middle of explaining how he deducted the killer of a case by the fauna present in the crime scene. He was on a tangent about a type of moss that is only indigenous in a certain part of England when she blurted out her true feelings. And now, she had to reap the consequences of her action.

“Did I say that out loud?”

Sherlock nodded, his eyes taking in her nervous demeanor. His silence is painful but the sting is mainly from sheer embarrassment.

“Yes, well…” After her very forward declaration, she was at a loss for words.

“Do you mean it?”

“I-I…yes,” she said with resignation. She knew it would always end this way. Now, she braced herself for his inevitable rejection. That’s what she gets for staring at the sun. She gets blinded and hurt.

“You don’t look happy,” he stated with a frown.

“Because! We were having fun. We were…And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you.”

“I don’t think it was stupid. I thought it was rather brilliant of you.”

“Brilliant,” she parroted back dumbly.

“Surely, you’ve noticed that my presence increased exponentially.”

“You needed to use the lab,” she reasoned.

“Only on the days that you’re present.”

“Oh.”

“You see, I have come to a conclusion. After being shot, I only heard one voice that guided me out of imminent danger. Then I reassessed a few things in my life. I was quite surprised to find out that you have taken possession of my thoughts and, inevitably, my heart. I couldn’t let you get away after knowing that,” he murmured in a low voice. He crossed the distance between them.

“What now?” she breathlessly asked.

“Now,” he took her into his arms with gentleness, “now would be a perfect time for a kiss.”

She clasped her arms around his neck with a radiant smile. “So what’s stopping you?”

“Absolutely nothing.”


	12. Mornings with Molly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still alive! Sorry for the lack of updates. Chemistry is kicking my ass. Will update more now that the term is over.

Molly has never been a morning person. Given the opportunity, she would dive back in the inviting comfort of her fluffy duvet and the toasty warmth of her queen-sized bed. 

This Sunday morning is no different. It took her almost an hour to convince herself that her day would be more productive out of the bed. 

And when she finally succeeded, she lethargically performed her daily ritual of burning toast and spilling coffee. She patiently waited on her coffeemaker when Sherlock Holmes dramatically entered her apartment, coat billowing and his dark curls swaying with his exaggerated movements. 

She could only roll her eyes fondly and with a smile on her face, but she did so when his back was turned. He doesn’t need any more reinforcing behavior with his dramatics.

“Ah, perfect. Right on time,” Sherlock smugly said as he grabbed a cup from her cupboard. 

It annoyed her that he feels perfectly at home regardless of her permission. But not as much as it secretly warms her heart. She really needs to set boundaries, she keeps telling herself.

“G’morning,” she grunts in response. She hasn’t brushed her mouth yet therefore words from her mouth are calculated. 

He hummed in return as he fixed his drink. Out of nowhere, he produced a half-eaten chocolate croissant as a form of payment for his intrusion. 

She begrudgingly accepts. She wolfs it down in two mouthfuls whilst glaring at him. It seems that they need to revisit boundaries and acceptable peace offerings again.

But his apparent amusement at her grumpiness just makes her giddy inside. 

They spend an hour in comfortable silence - with him contently sipping from a bright yellow mug with bees dancing on the cover as he fiddled with his phone, and her wearily fighting sleep and burning the roof of her tongue. 

“Finally!” he exclaimed with a flourish. “A seven popped up. Lestrade is expecting me at the yard. John is already on the way.”

She narrows her eyes at him, daring him to ask what she thinks he’s going to do so.

He gave a frustrated huff. “The body is already sent uptown. Out of your jurisdiction.”

This earns him a nod of approval. And a smidgen of a smile. 

“It’s best if I go before the body gets contaminated further,” Sherlock mumbled. He placed his used cup in the sink. Molly aptly gives herself kudos for house-breaking the man. 

“Keep me updated if it’s interesting enough,” she said. She took a sip before adding, “Keep safe, please.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes but nodded nonetheless. He gave her a swift kiss on the cheek and made for the door.

She couldn’t help but ask. “Sherlock, how much longer?”

“As long as it takes,” he said resolutely.

“So, you’re going to keep picking my locks, drinking my coffee and offering me half-eaten baked goods indefinitely?”

His brows furrowed. “Yes. I’m going to keep courting you until I convince you of my sincerity. I’m serious about us, Molly.”

She hid her giddy smile under guise of sipping from her mug. “Okay.”

“Right. See you later.”

“Sherlock. Okay,” she placed more emphasis on the latter.

He looked befuddled while clasping the doorknob. She almost laughed outright.

“Okay?”

“Yes, Sherlock. Okay,” she stated with more conviction. 

He beamed, unable to feign indifference this time. In three quick strides, he crossed the distance and kissed her fervently. And she couldn’t help but respond in kind. 

“Case, Sherlock,” she reminded him with a laugh.

“Right. Celebrate later.”

“Yes, we’ll celebrate later,” Molly said with a promise. 

Sherlock left with a noticeable spring in his step. As for her, well, mornings seemed to hold more significance - especially now that she gets to spend the rest of her mornings with Sherlock.


End file.
